


ego royale

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Foursome, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2019-01-18 16:51:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12392157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Miyata Toshiya, for all intents and purposes, is a very smug winner.





	ego royale

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

Miyata Toshiya, for all intents and purposes, is a very smug winner.

Tamamori considers himself a patient man, particularly when it comes to Miyata, and that’s saying something since he’s usually shrugging him off and rolling his eyes at everything Miyata says. But there’s something to be said for modesty, even in this group, and Tamamori doesn’t miss it until it’s completely gone.

The third time Kitayama and Miyata bro-fist and proclaim themselves the best kissers _in the world_ , Tamamori feels like throwing Kitayama’s stupid soccer figurines at their heads. He can’t bring himself to make the effort, but the thought is there all the same.

“You didn’t even _win_ ,” Fujigaya says to Miyata, unable to keep the butthurt off his face as he sulks in the corner of the couch next to Tamamori.

“Yeah, but I was better than _you_ ,” Miyata shoots back, all grin, and Tamamori thinks this is a very unflattering look for him.

“Besides, Taisuke, you can’t be good at everything,” Kitayama adds, clearly on a roll today as he teases Fujigaya even more, this time off camera. Tamamori expects it from this one, even if this is probably the most these two have willingly interacted in two years.

Fujigaya looks about as thrilled as he does when Kitayama has to jump on his back during photoshoots, only this time it’s Kitayama’s own fault for being a dick. Tamamori keeps waiting for Fujigaya to snap, because Fujigaya has the tolerance of a toothpick and gets pissed off when the wind blows the wrong way. But all he does is sit there, glaring openly at the pair of them who are squished together on Kitayama’s loveseat and beaming like idiots.

“Hey, Tama-chan,” Miyata says, and Tamamori reluctantly lifts his gaze towards them. “Don’t you want to know what it’s like to be kissed by the number-two ranked office kisser?”

Kitayama bursts out laughing, Fujigaya’s glare darts back and forth between both of them like he can’t decide who to kill with his eyes first, and Tamamori’s split-second decision is made from a 80/20 mixture of spite and vodka.

“No,” he answers calmly. “I’d rather kiss Gaya than you right now.”

“Eh?” Fujigaya says, all irritation gone as he stares at Tamamori incredulously.

Meanwhile, Kitayama looks like the wolf who just saw a cute little lamb wobble into his cave. “Go on, then.”

“Huh?” both Tamamori and Miyata say, Tamamori taking great pleasure in the way his declaration had wiped the smirk right off Miyata’s face.

“Kiss him,” Kitayama says, leaning back against the cushion and folding his arms satisfactorily. “Unless, you know, you’re full of shit.”

“I am not,” Tamamori says, his stubbornness shining above all as he turns to the side and considers Fujigaya’s mouth.

“Um,” Fujigaya says, licking his lips. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“No,” Kitayama and Tamamori answer at the same time; Miyata is still horror-stricken at the thought of Tamamori kissing someone other than him. Even Senga and Nikaido were glancing over in interest from where they were twisted together on the floor in front of the TV, and Yokoo just throws back a few more shots on the other side of Tamamori.

Tamamori’s certainly made worse decisions in his life, including Miyata. They’re not together by any means, but Miyata has always had this unnatural attachment to Tamamori and Tamamori just lets it happen. He’s even gotten used to it, dammit, which is probably why he’s so turned off at Miyata being a smug bastard. Miyata’s supposed to be a humble nerd, whose charm is in every way he’s _not_ like an idol. Tamamori doesn’t like this new person in Miyata’s body at all.

It’s with that reasoning that he grabs Fujigaya by the collar and presses their mouths together. Fujigaya squeaks at first, his lips tense against Tamamori’s, but then he relaxes and cups Tamamori’s jaw in his hand, kissing him back twice as heatedly. Tamamori’s plan completely backfires as he tastes the orange juice from Fujigaya’s screwdriver, belatedly realizing that their tongues are touching and Tamamori was the one to initiate it.

He makes it until he feels a harsh breath against his cheek before forcing his head down, abruptly breaking the kiss and catching his breath. When he looks up, Fujigaya’s in a similar state, glancing around the room and pressing his tongue (which was just in Tamamori’s _mouth_ ) into the sides of his cheeks like he does when he’s nervous.

The first person Tamamori dares to look at is Miyata, who looks like he can’t decide whether to be angry, hurt, or aroused as he gapes at the pair of them. He’s certainly not on top of the world anymore, which Tamamori figures was his intent here, and thus Tamamori sinks back into the couch cushions victoriously, ignoring the way his lips still tingle from that unexpectedly mind-blowing kiss.

The last thing Tamamori expects Miyata to do is retaliate, his pleased expression falling as Miyata turns to straddle Kitayama’s lap and plant one on him in one swift motion. Tamamori’s fairly certain that the other four jaws in the room drop as well as his own, but he can’t tear his eyes away long enough to check. Kitayama would make out with basically anyone and now is no different, both hands grabbing Miyata’s waist as he deepens their kiss before it even starts.

Tamamori has to admit, it’s not that bad of a sight, particularly the Miyata who has something to prove. If he used even half of that energy and determination on Tamamori, they’d be having a completely different arrangement right now. But this has become a battle, one that has Tamamori slamming down the rest of his drink because he’ll need it, and for the first time in his career Fujigaya is the one looking at him warily, like he doesn’t know what Tamamori will do next.

Hell, Tamamori doesn’t even know what he will do next. Miyata and Kitayama kiss for entirely too long, rage curling in Tamamori’s fists with each tilt of their heads, until finally Miyata pulls back. Kitayama has absolutely no remorse about anything and leans his head back, gasping for air and looking moderately amazed, but nothing compares to the challenge in Miyata’s eyes as he looks back over his shoulder at Tamamori. _Your turn_.

“Shit,” Fujigaya breaks the silence, reaching for the vodka bottle this time and shooting it straight. “Do you have anything stronger, Mitsu?”

Kitayama’s response is a garbled series of syllables, making that smirk return to Miyata’s face because he’d actually rendered their resident playboy incapable of coherent speech, and Tamamori would be a little proud if he wasn’t so fucking jealous. Instead he waits for Fujigaya to place the vodka bottle back on the table before pouncing him, nearly banging Fujigaya’s head against the arm of the couch as Tamamori throws him down and settles on top of him, returning to his mouth like he’d never left. This time Fujigaya responds right away, arms looping around Tamamori’s back with enough alcohol on his breath to make Tamamori feel drunk, or maybe that’s just from the kiss.

He accidentally kicks Yokoo as he stretches out and expects a lecture, but Yokoo just moves out of the way and it occurs to Tamamori much too late how dangerous of a position this is. He’s so mad and annoyed and _hot_ that he can’t stop himself from moving, Fujigaya’s legs spreading enough for Tamamori to fall between them, and Tamamori jumps back with wide eyes at the first bump of something hard against his crotch.

This just gives him the perfect view as Fujigaya tosses his head back with the filthiest moan Tamamori’s ever heard, then cringes in embarrassment. Tamamori feels a little guilty for involving him like this, and somewhere in the pudding that is his brain it seems like a good idea to press his lips to Fujigaya’s outstretched throat, chasing the Adam’s apple that continues to jump up and down even when he’s not talking.

Fujigaya’s next moan is right in Tamamori’s ear and Fujigaya’s no longer the only one hard, though it’s he who pulls Tamamori up by the hair and crushes their mouths together again. There’s nothing competitive about this anymore as Tamamori’s hips move on their own and they both gasp into their kiss, Fujigaya’s hands tightening on the muscles of Tamamori’s back as they move together.

Suddenly Fujigaya shoves him back with such force that Tamamori almost topples off of the couch onto the floor, though his fingers are still clutching onto Tamamori’s shirt. “Stop, stop, stop,” he’s breathing, his face completely red, and Tamamori inhales sharply at the realization of what almost just happened.

He hovers over Fujigaya as the latter catches his breath, giving them enough space to calm down, and now Tamamori feels really bad when Fujigaya squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lip. “Sorry,” he says, though it comes out much harsher than he’d intended.

It’s at this point that Tamamori remembers his surroundings, looking sheepishly over his shoulder to see Yokoo’s expression of complete awe and the youngest two dubiously clinging to each other as they watch curiously. Kitayama’s still in the exact same position he was before, his eyes barely open, but Miyata’s face is so stone set that Tamamori actually thinks he’s about to walk over and punch him in the face.

What he really does has Tamamori’s heart jumping in his throat, because there’s _no way_ that Miyata’s seriously going to do this in front of everyone. Even Kitayama looks shocked as Miyata slides down to his knees, spreading Kitayama’s thighs with both hands that linger on the waistband of his track pants.

Tamamori can feel the others looking at _him_ , waiting for him to call an end to this already, but all Tamamori can see is the one who’s facing away from him, hesitating for just a few seconds before lowering the waistband and staring determinedly at Kitayama’s half-hard cock.

“Oh my god,” Kitayama gasps, his eyes rolling back into his head as Miyata takes him in hand and he instantly hardens the rest of the way. “Miyacchi.”

That seems to be all Miyata needs to hear before getting started, a collective gasp sounding as he just sucks Kitayama past his lips without preamble. Kitayama spares Tamamori an apologetic look before twisting his fingers in Miyata’s hair, though his hand just rises and falls with Miyata’s head that moves up and down without any guidance from Kitayama whatsoever.

Tamamori jumps at the hand on his back, unaware of how much he’s shaking until Fujigaya’s gentle pat stills him. He’s almost growling, his eyes locked on Miyata’s lips stretched around Kitayama’s cock, and all he can do is watch as Miyata brings up his other hand to make up the difference. Kitayama’s a mess above him, flushed face and bottom lip between his teeth as he rocks up a little, his soft groans worse than if he were screaming in pleasure.

Then Miyata pulls back, leaving Kitayama both frustrated and relieved as he turns around and stares expectantly at Tamamori. His lips are still shining and all Tamamori can think about is what was just between them, which went entirely too far in his opinion. And there’s only one thing Tamamori can do to top that.

“Hey, Gaya-san,” Tamamori says, not breaking his eyelock with Miyata, “do you have a condom?”

“ _What_ ,” Fujigaya replies, sputtering beneath him. “I can’t—I won’t…no, I don’t.”

“I have one,” Senga speaks up, cowering under all of the eyes that turn toward him in disbelief, most notably Nikaido’s.

“You’ll need this, too,” Miyata adds, his eyes spitting venom as he flings a packet towards them. It hits Fujigaya right between the eyes and Miyata looks apologetic for a half a second before his challenging glare returns.

Tamamori prides himself on snubbing Miyata to focus on Fujigaya, pressing his lips right to the spot where he’d been hit. “Better?”

“Um,” Fujigaya answers, his body incapable of remaining still as Tamamori slides hands up his sides and drags lips down to his ear. “Tama-chan, isn’t this too much?”

“Don’t you want to?” Tamamori whispers, quiet enough so that no one else can hear, and he hears Fujigaya’s sharp intake of breath. “I can ride you just like this. You don’t even have to move.”

“That’s…” Fujigaya trips over his words, arching when Tamamori licks along the shell of his ear, and Tamamori grins when Fujigaya starts nodding. “Fine, fine.”

Ordinarily Tamamori would have something to say about Fujigaya giving in so easily, but right now it works in his favor and he distracts him with a searing kiss as he unties his loose sweats and tears open the packet to dribble lube onto Fujigaya’s fingers. Tamamori hasn’t done this before, at least more than his own self exploration, but Fujigaya seems to know what he’s doing as he slips his hand down Tamamori’s pants and around to the back. His wrist bumps Tamamori’s cock and Tamamori lets out a whine, which has Fujigaya kissing him harder as his touch becomes more confident.

Tamamori brings his knees up to straddle Fujigaya’s waist as the first finger goes in, his body rocking at the brand new sensation of something inside him that’s beyond his control. Fujigaya’s other hand rubbing soothingly on his hip relaxes him enough for a second finger, an unexpected jolt of pleasure pulling a loud moan from his lungs as Fujigaya touches a spot deep inside that feels really good.

“Fuck, Tama-chan,” Fujigaya mutters, and it’s even hotter now that he’s into it.

“Yes,” Tamamori replies, his lips returning to Fujigaya’s throat as the latter leans his head back again, squirming beneath Tamamori like he’s the one being stretched open. “Fuck Tama-chan.”

“Not yet,” Fujigaya says, hissing as he pushes in a third finger. Tamamori feels so full, so _ready_ that he snatches the condom and rips it open, dipping his hands right into Fujigaya’s pants and swallowing those sweet moans as he rolls it on him. Then he manages to shove off the leg of his sweats that is closest to the back of the sofa to maintain some sense of decency, though he forgets all about that as Fujigaya’s sheathed erection bumps the very inside of his thigh. Three fingers are now moving in and out of him easily, grazing that spot once more before they suddenly disappear, Fujigaya’s voice shaking as he says, “Okay, now.”

Tamamori bites his lip as he leans up enough to guide Fujigaya all the way between his legs, squeezing his eyes shut and trying his best to relax as he feels Fujigaya’s tip against his stretched hole.

“Tama-chan,” says a small voice, and Tamamori pauses as he recognizes to whom it belongs without looking. “Please don’t.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Tamamori asks, shaking from the force he’s using to hold himself up over Fujigaya’s lap. “Why the fuck shouldn’t I?”

“Because I love you,” Miyata says, and Tamamori’s head snaps to the side so fast that he almost gives himself whiplash. Miyata’s eyes are red and his chest is visibly heaving, his lips parted like a mouth-breather and it’s the ugliest he’s ever looked in the entire time Tamamori’s known him, yet Tamamori’s heart couldn’t be soaring anymore than if it beat right out of his ribcage.

“The _hell_ ,” Fujigaya growls, shoving Tamamori right off of him and pulling his knees up to bury his incredibly red face into. “I hate you all so much.”

Tamamori pays him no mind, even as he falls in an unceremonious heap on the floor with half of his pants hanging off and his hair all over the place, but all he sees is Miyata. Miyata, who falls over himself to get to Tamamori and cover him as well as he can, gentle fingers brushing the bangs out of his eyes as Tamamori stares at him like he’s never seen him before, despite the past several years flashing behind his eyes.

“Really?” Tamamori asks, and Miyata nods.

Then Tamamori grins, his face hurting from the sudden strain, and Nikaido’s loud cheer is the first one he hears. Miyata throws his arms around him and squeezes, making a pleased noise just loud enough for Tamamori to hear when Tamamori fists his shirt and hugs him back, holding him close enough to feel his heartbeat that gradually falls in time with Tamamori’s.

Miyata pulls back, grinning like an idiot as he leans in for a kiss, but Tamamori turns his head and makes a face. “You just had Kitamitsu’s dick in your mouth,” he reminds him.

“Yeah, about that,” Kitayama calls over, looking just as unhappy as Fujigaya, and both Tamamori and Miyata try to hide behind each other.

“Sorry,” they mutter in unison, though Tamamori can tell that Miyata’s trying not to laugh as hard as Tamamori himself is.

“Next time leave us out of your lovers’ quarrels,” Fujigaya grumbles, followed by an eyeroll and a long sigh. “Dammit, Mitsu, get over here.”

“You come over here,” Kitayama replies.

“Don’t be a bitch. There is more room over here.”

“Fine, but if I go all the way over there, I’m topping.”

“Bullshit, I already have the condom on.”

“Your point?”

“Get your ass over here and I’ll show you my point.”

Tamamori and Miyata manage to get out of the way just before Kitayama barrels across the room, tackling Fujigaya down onto the couch, and Tamamori wonders if he’d looked that ridiculous rutting against Fujigaya like a dog in heat, their mouths sliding together like kissing is an afterthought. Apparently Fujigaya wins their argument, because Kitayama kicks off his pants and Fujigaya uses the rest of the lube to finger him much more roughly than he’d done to Tamamori. Twenty seconds later, Tamamori watches in awe as Kitayama sinks right down onto Fujigaya, rolling his body like a practiced accent dance.

Fujigaya finishes embarrassingly fast, thrusting up into Kitayama until he throws his head back with a wail, but he doesn’t look too bothered by it as a stupid grin forms on his face. Unimpressed, Kitayama pokes him to the point where he’s actually punching him, and finally Fujigaya just grabs Kitayama’s thighs and pulls him further up his body, sucking Kitayama’s cock past his lips without moving his head and letting Kitayama fuck his mouth.

“My throat hurts just watching this,” Tamamori comments with a wince, and Miyata nods next to him. Then Miyata shifts behind him and Tamamori lays back into his embrace, feeling comfortable aside from his arousal, which reminds him of its existence every time he moves. “Hey, Miyacchi.”

“Hmm?” Miyata replies entirely too close to Tamamori’s ear.

“I’ll let you kiss me if you finish what Gaya started,” Tamamori offers.

Miyata doesn’t answer right away, but when he does it’s in the form of something hard pressing against Tamamori’s bare ass. “We don’t have another condom, though.”

“It’s okay,” Tamamori says. “It’s okay if it’s you.”

A low groan sends a shudder through Tamamori and the next second has him straining his neck, seeking out Miyata behind him and moaning when their lips finally connect. Miyata’s leaning halfway over Tamamori’s shoulder and they keep bumping their noses and teeth, but it’s the best kiss Tamamori’s ever had and he’s pretty sure it’s because he returns Miyata’s feelings.

He’s not about to say that, though, so he just breaks the kiss gently and lays his head back on Miyata’s shoulder, reaching behind him to take Miyata’s cock in his hand. Miyata’s breath hitches, followed by all of these low sexy noises that Tamamori can certainly get used to, topped with a moan as Tamamori discovers him leaking and uses his thumb to spread the precome around as well as he can.

“Just do it,” Tamamori hisses back at him, his body already rocking with anticipation. “I’m already ready.”

“Okay,” Miyata says shakily, though his next statement is steady and clear: “I love you.”

Then Miyata’s inside him, pushing up while holding Tamamori’s thighs down, and Tamamori closes his eyes as he tries to relax enough for Miyata to fill him. Somewhere in the distance he hears Kitayama groan out his obvious orgasm, followed by Fujigaya bitching at him for not warning and how he’s never going to get that taste out of his mouth. Tamamori tunes them out as he tentatively pushes back, liking the way Miyata gasps at that, and slowly they start to move together.

“Okay?” Miyata asks, pressing the question right inside his ear, and Tamamori nods. “Can I go a little faster?”

Tamamori nods again, this time moaning out loud as Miyata thrusts harder and hits that spot that has been aching for contact since Fujigaya first found it. Miyata keeps grunting in Tamamori’s ear and Tamamori feels like he could explode from the pressure accumulating within him, not enough to come untouched but pretty damn close. Maybe they can try for that another time, he thinks, smiling at the realization that this is only the beginning for the pair of them.

“Only Tama-chan would smile during sex,” Nikaido mutters, and Tamamori flips him the finger without opening his eyes.

“Because he’s in _love_ ,” Senga adds, and there’s a sea of snickers that Tamamori decidedly ignores.

“Are you?” Miyata asks, and Tamamori’s nodding again without thinking. “I’m so happy.”

Tamamori strains his neck to lean back and kiss Miyata again, his hand reaching for one of Miyata’s and guiding it to his neglected cock. Miyata takes over instantly, pumping Tamamori with strong, fluid strokes as his breath becomes more ragged from the way Tamamori tightens around him. It’s going to be over soon, for both of them, and all Tamamori can do is reach back and hold on to Miyata’s thighs as he bounces up and down on Miyata’s cock while Miyata’s hand fists his own.

“I’m gonna come,” he whispers against Miyata’s lips, then arches to do exactly that. Miyata’s mouth makes its way back to Tamamori’s ear and it’s all over, the next few seconds unaccounted for as Tamamori finally gets release. It’s the strangest feeling to still have Miyata inside him, thrusting harder to push through the resistance of Tamamori’s body, and finally there’s a pulse deep inside him and Miyata’s groaning in his ear, falling still.

Tamamori forces his eyes open to see Senga and Nikaido curled up with each other, red-faced and breathless but still dressed, while Fujigaya and Kitayama conveniently ignore each other. Fujigaya keeps popping his jaw and Kitayama cringes every time he moves, but they’re still laying on each other even if they’re facing opposite directions. Tamamori himself doesn’t feel sore until Miyata pulls out, wincing enough for Miyata to notice and whisper about taking a warm bath once he can see straight again.

“See, this is why we all shouldn’t drink together,” Yokoo says, taking on his group mother voice.

“It was Miyacchi’s fault this time,” Tamamori speaks up, unable to hide the smirk from his face, and Miyata just hugs him.

“This is why we don’t rank Miyacchi high on any cool lists,” Fujigaya inputs, and Kitayama snorts.

“Be more jealous,” the smaller man says, and Fujigaya shoves him enough to make him hiss in pain.

“At least girls want to see me in the shower.”

“They also want to see you make out with a giraffe.”

“And probably your mom.”

Tamamori chooses this moment to sneak out, pulling Miyata with him as they creep down the hallway and into Kitayama’s bathroom. The bath water feels nice on his sore muscles, but Miyata’s hands feel even better as Tamamori turns around in his embrace to kiss him properly.

“Well?” Miyata asks, and Tamamori looks at him expectantly. “What’s it like to be kissed by the number-two rated office kisser?”

“Shut up,” Tamamori says, then kisses the smirk off his face.


End file.
